Bartimaeus Fanfic: Repercussions
by darkdruid01
Summary: After the destruction of the rebel djinn, Kitty summons Bartimaeus once again, much to his dismay. German magician Martin Luther has written that djinn and humans have connections which allow them to bind life forces - which could mean Nathaniel's return. If Bartimaeus can summon Nathaniel from the remains of Gladstone's Staff, the young magician can help defend Britain.
1. Chapter 1

Frankly, I was annoyed. Was it just me, or had barely any time passed since Nathaniel dismissed me and yet someone was calling me back already? The bloody cheek! Had nothing changed after my last summoning? I sighed, as much as one can while being pulled in between different dimensions, and relinquished my hold on the Other Place. Best to get it over with quickly. Whoever summoned me wasn't going to get off easy. The sarcasm and taunting aren't sold separately, you know; it's all part of the package deal. And with middle-ranking djinn, you haven't got much choice.

At least this time I was able to pull my essence into a respectable form for a djinni of my stature. All the stops were going out. I materialized in the well-lit room as an enormous werewolf, with fangs like steak knives and claws razor-sharp. It was a guise I didn't use often, but I can't say I was unpolished for lack of experience. The fur had just the right amount of tuft, but wasn't mangy. The glowing green eyes were almost aflame; it seemed the mottled brown fur around them might catch fire any moment. I drew myself up to my full height and prepared to let loose an ear-splitting howl.

That was when I noticed who was in the pentacle opposite me. The howl quickly turned into a sort of cough, and I managed to get out "Oh…you." The werewolf shimmered and Ptolemy stood within my circle instead. "Hello, Kitty."

She was in bad shape, to say the least. Don't get me wrong, she actually seemed better. Her hair was losing its gray streaks; the lines on her face had all but faded. She looked like a normal eighteen-year-old human girl should. Aside from that, she obviously wasn't taking recent events well. She'd allowed her hair to grow out; it hung to her shoulders in black, untidy curtains. Her eyes were red, almost bloodshot, and I could see tear streaks on her cheeks. The most disturbing fact was that she didn't answer my greeting - she just considered me distantly. Her gaze made me uncomfortable, and after shifting a little I looked around the room.

Kitty and I stood in simple summoning circles chalked on a hardwood floor. The room was mostly bare, but for a single plush armchair and a desk. The walls were papered in a soft green pattern of twining weeds. The door was ajar, but at my angle I could not see where it led. Under closer scrutiny I noticed the pentacle's runes were different. Nominal pretences, such as summoning and locking mechanisms were retained, but several clauses were left out. It seemed Kitty had given me the choice to answer her call, but in my exasperation I hadn't noticed. It didn't matter. I was interested in what she had to say.

Speaking of which, it looked as if she was finally going to say something. Her voice was dry and scratchy, as if she'd been yelling all morning. "H'lo, Bartimaeus," she said. Kitty continued to stare at me disconcertingly.

"Ah… yes. Well," I began. I was terribly cross with her, but obviously she needed something. Not to mention she was a wreck. I'd gotten a lot more considerate in her direction since she'd followed me to the Other Place. Still, being gentle at this juncture was a little difficult to negotiate. "Can I help you?"

In answer, Kitty reached into her pocket and drew forth a small disk. Red lines flashed as she raised it so I could see. After a spell I recognized it. Its aura on the second to seventh planes had not yet faded. The pommel of Gladstone's Staff, the pentacle inset with rubies still intact, lay in the palm of her hand. I swallowed. "So… you found that. Wondered where it went."

"He's dead," Kitty said. It was so sudden and so much louder than her earlier speech that I jumped. "Nathaniel's dead. He broke his promise."

"Yes," I said. "I believe someone we know once said that young men are best at dying for empty concepts. The concept Nathaniel died for was less empty than some, but the fact remains. He might not have survived anyway with that wound in his side, which –"

"Which you told him was nothing to worry about!" Kitty burst out. "Of course he didn't believe you, he thought he was going to die anyway, so why not sacrifice himself! He could've found some loophole, some other way to set off the Staff!"

"There wasn't," I said matter-of-factly. "Nathaniel couldn't think straight at the time. I doubt he would have been able to give it much thought. I certainly don't know of one, under the circumstances. He did what he knew would work. And it did."

The girl wasn't about to argue any more. I could see the retorts, the accusations wanting to spill out, but she clamped her mouth shut and sat. I mimicked the action to retain eye level. She was upset – that much I could tell by the direction of her pout. Her arms were folded and her hair fell across her face.

"He told me to say hello," I said. "Though it's not very comforting, he wouldn't have wanted you to be so put out." Apparently my skill at this type of pep-talk had improved since the Lovelace affair, because Kitty seemed (ever so slightly) more positively affected by it than Nathaniel had been. She kept her silence, so I rambled on. "Nathaniel was thinking in your best interests, and those of London's people. He put them above himself – which is rather unique in a magician."

"Bloody went and killed himself for it, though," Kitty said curtly.

At this I didn't argue. There was an awkward silence. I drummed my fingers on the floor. Kitty was still and resolute, unresponsive. I noticed a stack of unusually thick books (even for magicians) behind her in the pentacle. "Been doing some reading?" I asked quizzically. "That's good…for your, er, brains. What's it in aid of? I thought you were off magic."

"I was," said Kitty. "But Mr. Button recommended I read a bit of Luther - _Martin _Luther, that is. He isn't a very well-known magician in Britain. Probably because he was German. Mr. Button said he had some 'far-fetched but intriguing' ideas on the lines of humans and djinn cooperatively using magic."

I myself had never heard of this Martin Luther. His name sounded distinctly fifteen-hundredsy, but I was in America around that time. "I see. And what did this fellow have to say?" I asked not because I was genuinely curious, but to get her talking about something other than me being responsible for Nathaniel's death – Kitty was notoriously quick to use the Punitive Jab, something she had perfected while practicing on my soft spot. I did not want another singed loincloth, if you know what I mean.


	2. Chapter 2

**Nathaniel**

-GlassPalace, seconds after the dismissal of Bartimaeus-

Nouda lunged, and Nathaniel broke the Staff.

As the gnarled wood cracked, rays of light shone from the fissures, blinding colors annulling the world beyond. The demon faltered, sensing an oncoming energy source. Nathaniel coughed, tasting blood, and put more pressure on the Staff. Nouda pressed in, hungry.

No more than a second passed before the Staff folded in on itself and white light burst forth from the fibers of broken wood. Nathaniel was thrown backward hard, he felt his body lift up with similar discomfort to flying with Bartimaeus within his body. After traveling what seemed like miles in the air he fell, dropped like a stone. The back of his head cracked on the cement floor of the Palace; he groaned in pain and tried to sit up.

Nathaniel's vision was blurred and fuzzy, but he could see Nouda, having just absorbed the Staff's energy, rear up and arch its back in pain. The spirit roared, a sound like a thousand screams of the dying. Then it doubled over, its eyes glowed ferociously, and it exploded.

The shockwave reached Nathaniel, and his vision went red with the impact. It seemed an enormous hand picked him up by the neck and flung him into the walls of the GlassPalace. The young magician crashed through the window panes, feeling the sharp edges cut his sides, and hurtled into Trafalgar Square, where he tumbled down a set of subway stairs and came to rest at the bottom, sprawling on the ground.

Although he was overcome with pain, he managed to think of Bartimaeus, one of his only true friends, and the magicians who had survived, and Kitty. He wished with his last strands of thought that he could've known her better, could have told her how he felt – at least to get it done, to make ends meet.

Darkness took him. The man who had once been known as John Mandrake couldn't hold on any longer. He prepared to give up, to give his last farewell to the realm of the living. And, unexpectedly, a presence reverberated through his mind. "**Master.**"

It couldn't be. He'd dismissed the djinni ages ago! Hadn't he? "Bartimaeus?" He half whispered, half croaked. He could not find his voice.

"**No. I am Uraziel, the spirit of the Staff and of the Ring of Solomon. Ownership of Gladstone's weapon has passed to you, and so has my service.**" The creature's speech was deep and vast, like a dark ocean that was calm on the surface but roiling with fell storms beneath.

"Oh…" Nathaniel rasped. "Thought it was someone…worth…coming back to life for…" He could feel the fractures in his bones, the blood seeping from his head and side. Yes, it was time. He drew himself in, ready to die once more.

"**Master.**" The being called Uraziel persisted. "**You are dying.**"

"Tell me something else I don't know," Nathaniel choked. "Please, go on stating the obvious."

"**I can keep you alive if you wish.**"

"What's the use?" the teenager shrugged as much as anyone could whilst bleeding out on the flagstones of a demolished subway. "My city…, my colleagues, my best friend, my trade… they're all gone. If I'm going to die…I might as well…make peace with…the fact."

"**There is a human girl known as Kathleen Jones,**" said Uraziel in a calm tone. "**You have feelings for her. You made a promise you would come back. Do you not feel obligated to keep it?**"

Nathaniel would've been angry if he had the strength. "What…business is it of yours…whether or not I like a girl?"

"**Motivation,**" Reassured the spirit. "**Something worth living for. It is not your time to die.**"

"You want me to survive…why?" the human muttered.

"**You are the only one who can free me, and I do not wish for William's binding spells to incinerate me for letting you perish. The Staff kept me from interfering before, but I can aid you now.**"

"How?"

"**Simple,**" Uraziel boomed. "**I will relocate you to my residence inside the crystal pentacle, which is inset in the pommel of the Staff. You will heal and live on until my spell draws Kathleen Jones to the object, and she finds a way to release you. In return, I wish for you to release me. I have been enslaved too long.**"

"You know…Bartimaeus…mentioned…you," said Nathaniel. It was getting more and more difficult to speak. "He said…you were powerful…if a bit of a show-off…"

"**Did he?**" Uraziel's tone was amused.

Nathaniel's thoughts went to Bartimaeus, who had tried to stay and help when the Staff broke. And the Kitty, who would be waiting for his return. Hoping to see him again, safe and sound and very much alive.

"Preserve me," he said.

Uraziel did as its master asked.


	3. Chapter 3

"Tell me again," Bartimaeus said. "Why did you go back and get the piece of the Staff you're holding?"

Kitty and the djinni were sitting on the terrace at Whitehall, or what had once been Whitehall, which was not far from the room where she'd summoned him. The patio overlooked the Thames, dark waves crashing against the riverbanks. It was all very peaceful and suitable for talking about uncomfortable topics, such as the circumstances of a certain close friend's death. She sighed. "I was reading with the window open, and a sort of…voice drifted in on the wind. It sounded like someone saying my name, but it wasn't…I can't quite describe it."

"Go on," said the djinni. Ptolemy's dark brown eyes stared at Kitty, scrutinizing, analyzing her words.

"I followed the noise, because, you know, I can't stay out of trouble." A thin smile came to Kitty's face, then flashed away as fast as it came. "It led me to Trafalgar Square, and when I reached the Palace it had stopped. I looked down and noticed this…" she held up the pommel of Gladstone's Staff. The sun's rays backlit the jewels, making the ruby pentacle seem to glow. "And I haven't heard the voice since."

Bartimaeus cocked his head in the manner that Ptolemy apparently had, thinking. "IT sounds like some sort of Leading Charm. A sophisticated one, if I'm listening right. Whose voice was it?"

Kitty shrugged. "A lot of people," she said. "All of them dead." She paused, then added, "Nathaniel's."

"Ah…" the djinni looked even more thoughtful, brow creased and wrinkled like corrugated cardboard. His eyebrows knit together. "Well, someone wanted you to find that particular shard of wreckage, but for what reason I can't guess. I may have a idea, though."

"Of who? Or of why?"

"Both, possibly. I still sense an aura from the jewels, above the first plane. Technically it shouldn't be there, because when the Staff was broken, the spirits inside were released – supposedly."

Kitty put two and two together in her head. "You're saying that something may still be trapped inside?" Her eyes shot to the pommel of the Staff, which was in her hand; she hastily set it on the table in front of her.

"I would guess," said Bartimaeus. "…that it's pretty powerful, given the Leading Charm you say you experienced. Most spirits don't use them, although their use – drawing certain people to objects or places – is apparent. They're very difficult, and most people can detect the weak ones by some inflection in the 'voice'. And usually the voice is that of the caster – " he broke off. "Which I see I shouldn't have said."

Kitty was up on her feet and thrusting the pommel of the Staff under Bartimaeus's nose. "Could that mean – "

"It's very unlikely – "

Kitty cut the spirit off. "But is it possible?"

Bartimaeus sighed. "I don't think it's what you're thinking, but yes. It is. We'd have to release the being inside to find out."

Kitty stared at the ruby pentacle resting in her hand. If Nathaniel was in there, if she could get him back…

The djinni must have noticed the look in her eyes, because his tone was cautionary. "Kitty, don't set you hopes too high. there's no telling what will happen. We lost him once already, and I don't think you should put yourself through losing him again over what's probably nothing."

Kitty closed her fist around the jeweled piece of wood. "Maybe it's nothing. But maybe it's Nathaniel. And if it is, I'm going to grab him and never let go, in case he tries to sacrifice himself again."

Bartimaeus looked amused. "You'd have trouble showering that way."

Kitty made an indignant noise. "That's not the point!" She aimed a halfhearted kick at the djinni's chair, but it sprang free with a leap.

"Alright, then. Let's get to a pentacle. We have an unknown entity to release from thousands of years of bondage!" Bartimaeus rubbed Ptolemy's hands together. "Just like old times!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Awright, guys! Sorry for this Author's Note but I looked at my traffic stats, and, well, you guys are coming from literally all over the world. And I noticed repeat visitors! I just wanted to say thanks (and thank you, Person, for your encouraging review) and that I know you're all out there. Sorry for the long wait on this chapter but I got sick…really sick. Here goes:**

Nathaniel sneezed. He had been floating in a pearlescent void for almost a week, and he was getting restless. Not that he could move about; of course – he was still gravely injured, an element to his captivity that angered him. With nothing to do but sit and think, it got boring, or sometimes too interesting. His mind would wander all over, but it always came to the same subjects: Kitty, Bartimaeus, and what had become of London. Having no answers to the fact, the train of thought nearly drove him insane.

It wasn't until Uraziel showed himself that Nathaniel could clear his head. "How long?" he asked the spirit. His voice was quiet and raw, his throat scratched with every breath. As he spoke, the wound in his side gave a jolt of pain, it had grown too used to being still.

"**Minutes,**" answered Uraziel. "**Perhaps seconds. She has called the djinn Bartimaeus and will soon free us.**"

"How?" Nathaniel had asked this question many times and his servant had answered, but he wanted to hear is again to convince him it would work.

"**She will summon any and all entities within this stone from their prison,**" said the being. "**I will heed the call and bring you with me. When we are free I will automatically be dismissed, leaving you with them**"

The magician sighed. "All right." He shrugged. "I can wait."

Kitty started to speak. "Careful," said Bartimaeus from behind her. "If this goes wrong, we could all explode."

She looked over her shoulder. "It would probably help me focus if you would shut up!" The djinni was hovering at her shoulder in the guise of a guinea pig whose bottom half was a cloud. If there was a reason for that, Kitty didn't understand it. The guinea pig had a set of black spectacles that it wore on the edge of its nose. It tapped them indignantly.

"I'm just trying to make sure you realize the severity of this situation! I don't want to die a horrible death, and I sure hope you don't, either! I doubt I can pull off barely escaping by dismissal because of my master's good graces three full times!"

Kitty rolled her eyes and turned around. In the pentacle opposite the one occupied by her and Bartimaeus was the pommel of Gladstone's Staff. Certain runes and incantations were set about it, so that she could draw out whatever was inside, no matter its power. Martin Luther's book had all been in German and partially in Prussian, but she thought she'd gotten the inscriptions right. She thought.

"If we're going to die in a magnificent fireball, we'd best get it over with," she said. Then before Bartimaeus could respond, she began the vocal incantation. As the words flew from her mouth, the other pentacle began to glow, then the piece of the Staff broke and each of the diamonds within rose off the floor, seeming to orbit each other. Kitty chanted faster, the jewels glowed brighter, and when the final word was all it took, the largest gem exploded.

When the magical shock wave reached her, Kitty crouched and struggled to stay in the pentacle. Bartimaeus grabbed her shoulder and she felt his needle-sharp guinea pig claws dig into her skin. She opened her mouth, to curse, to say her last words, but when the last clause of the spell came out instead, the wind stopped. And died away.

Kitty shakily stood and looked to the opposite circle. Bartimaeus peeked over her shoulder. Lying on the ground, blood seeping gently from his black coat, was a young man. "I don't believe it," said the djinni. "Nathaniel?


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry about the AN again, but I had to say thanks for your favorite-ing, following, and reviews, everyone! I'm so sorry I can't post as often as I would like but I'm just really busy, and you guys encouraging me has convinced me not to blow off writing and just give up. So without further ado…**

Nathaniel was drifting, and then he fell. Down into a void that had no depth, he tumbled and spun without moving at all. He fell for a hundred years and for only a second, through the barriers of time, space, and beyond. "Death," he said without moving his mouth. "That's where I am. I'm passing by death and going back."

He felt Uraziel's presence lift, saw the silvery trail as the spirit returned to its home. And he felt no pain as he slammed into the wooden floor of a room in which he had never set foot, landing harshly in the center of a painstakingly drawn pentacle. He lay for a moment, and then feeling began seeping back into his body. He felt the tingling sensation of having recovered from an impact first, and then the general sense of awareness that he _was_ whole, he _was_ there, he _did_ exist. He basked in the familiar feeling that he hadn't experienced in so long.

But something was different. His thoughts, half formed and newly wrought now that they had a physical entity to bind to again, paused. He was partially elevated, his torso lifted off the floor. Something warm and soft encircled him there. The arms of a girl, slender and black haired, hugging him tightly. His cheek was wet, was she crying? _Kitty, _he thought. _Kitty Jones. _He wanted to say something to her, something to make her feel better and stop her crying. He could not; his mouth wouldn't move. He wasn't strong enough.

Kitty was talking. "He's alive! I can't… I don't…" she choked back a sob. "Oh my God, he's alive."

Another voice from a bit farther away. "Don't forget me," it said self-indulgently. "I helped some in there."

Kitty looked up. "Shut up, Bartimaeus," she said.

_Bartimaeus? _Nathaniel tried to sit up. His former servant – worst enemy, best friend – was here. Now. _I can never shake him off, _he thought. _Still, if he had a hand in my resurrection, I'm not complaining._

The djinni was arguing with Kitty now. "…turnips! Turnips and antifreeze!"

"Oh, stop your useless blether!" said Kathleen Jones. She looked down at Nathaniel. "You're safe now," she said softly. "You're back." She kept talking, but a strange ringing came into Nathaniel's ears and he couldn't hear her. He frowned, trying to read her lips. The ringing intensified. He barely had time to make out "_I love – " _before he blacked out.

**Bartimaeus**

" – you," Kitty said. I gagged. I retched. I mimed throwing up. After all, what are you supposed to do when one of your friends says something like that to somebody? That's what surly, bitter, grizzled, debonair, godlike, amazing, stupendous, utterly hilarious djinni slaves are for. Right?

"Oh, so stop it," I said, enjoying myself immensely. What fun I'd have taunting them after this! I could picture it: I, Bartimaeus, in some grotesque or startling guise, walking oh-so-unsuspectingly into a bedroom while Kitty and Nathaniel just begin to – but wait! She was saying something!

"Piss off, you rodent," Kitty growled. Ouch. I _was_ a guinea pig right then, but it was still a bit of a stretch. I doubted then – and still do now - that any rodents consist of air and fire.

"Now that's just insulting," I said. "Listen. I'm fine with you and Nathaniel being all lovey-dovey. As long as I can tease you without you pulling out the Punitive Jab or the Infernal Coals, thus forcing me to invoke your true name, I'll even go easy on you. But I do insist that you do not ever, and I mean never, as in never ever in your life, lightning-strike-you-if-you-do kind of never, _ever_ participate in undue displays of affection in front of me!" I exploded in a puff of smoke and reappeared floating over Nathaniel's slumbering face.

Kitty squeaked in surprise before recovering. "And what do you define as 'undue', Mister Just-Say-No?"

The guinea pig pushed its spectacles up its furry nose and cleared its throat. A piece of parchment covered in calligraphy materialized in its hands. "Number One: Effective right now or in similar situations. Don't take advantage of Nathaniel while he's unconscious."

Kitty's face went red and she swiped at me, so I teleported to above her head this time. She whirled. "Why in bloody hell would you suggest that I'd even _consider _doing something like that?"

I adjusted my glasses again and looked at her, raising my eyebrows like I was considering the possibility but not believing her. Then I went back to my parchment. I could tell that more than anything I could've said, this infuriated her. "Number Two: Effective at all times. Keep at least eight inches away from one another…" I looked down. "…which I see you've already violated. Well, that's Strike One for Tuesday." I made a notation with a quill that had appeared in my claws.

"This is completely – "

"Necessary? I know! Isn't it lucky I planned out enough rules for every conceivable thing you could do in graphic detail? I can't wait till we get to the reproductive clause!" I smiled like that was the greatest, most fun activity ever. Kitty opened her mouth to retort, changed her mind, and lunged.

I flew just a few inches out of reach as she chased me through the house, laughing maniacally and reading from the list. "Number Two Hundred Sixty Three: After Marriage. At this point, it's okay to do it, just not on the tables." Kitty roared and doubled her speed, coming at me like a freight train. I whizzed through the air, dodging her grabs for the parchment. This was going to be so fun, I could hardly wait until Nathaniel woke up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the AN but I felt I had to apologize for the shortness of this chapter and for my absence. I was AWOL for so long because my family members were kind of needing the computer a lot... by their definition, more than me. So yeah. Anyways I didn't have time to write more today but I wanted to get SOMETHING up for you to read so here you are:**

**Nathaniel**

The magician Nathaniel woke up in a soft bed of white linen with his head resting on a feather pillow. He was in Whitehall, that he could tell by the view from the window on the wall to his right, which showed a (largely under reconstruction) group of the least damaged buildings. Least being a relative term; they were still quite demolished. On impulse he sat, and finding this endeavor successful, he stood. As the blankets fell away, he found he was dressed in a dark green shirt and sable trousers. He wore no shoes.

The room was empty, with whitewashed walls and a cold hardwood floor. A three-legged table with a potted plant stood in the corner. Nathaniel walked to the door and looked out across the hallway. Voices, carried by a wind he did not feel, reached his ears. He followed them, turning right and then left.

It was Kitty he heard first. "When do you think he'll wake up?"

"Luther's estimates vary," said a person whom Nathaniel didn't know. His voice had a layer to it, that of age and weariness. "Perhaps it'll keep a week. Perhaps he's awake right now."

"We need him now," said someone else. Nathaniel almost jumped. It was Piper, his assistant from the Government. Good, she'd survived then.

"Unless he's already recovered, we can do nothing to speed the process," said the man from before. "While we're waiting, I might as well have another iced bun."

Piper gave a little _tut-tut_ noise. "Mister Button! You've had six already!"

Kitty snorted. "Six? Six is nothing. You should've seen him the time I forgot a few barrier hexes and the lamiya we summoned almost broke out. It's the nervousness, it makes him hungry."

Mr. Button grunted. "I need my nourishment after startling events. Including resurrection of the presumed-dead!" His words were muffled, as if he were chewing the bun he had mentioned.

_Button_. Nathaniel remembered the name now. He'd heard some talk in the upper ranks of magicians about him. Apparently he was powerful enough to challenge his superiors but hadn't wanted to, after losing his leg to a marid – the highest class of summonable spirit. Between lacking particular ambition and other distractions, he'd become invisible. _That is, until now_.

Nathaniel presumed it was high time he made an appearance. "They'll see me one way or another," he muttered. As he made a move to step forward, he caught a whiff of brimstone wafting from behind him. He turned. Ptolemaeus of Alexandria stared back at him.

"Hello, Nathaniel," said Bartimaeus. "Good to see you're awake."


End file.
